Mousse

Unrequited love was what we had in common, both with ourselves and our
would-be goddesses. It was what made us friends. It was what drove us
apart.

After Ranma and Akane finally got married, both of us continued to work
alongside the girls we loved: he with Shampoo-san, and I with Ukyou-sama.
Our devotion was never returned; just as our love for these girls went
unrequited, so they continued to yearn for Ranma-san, even now that he was
out of their reach.

I was resigned to my fate; for now, Ukyou-sama's heart would only be
happy with her Ran-chan. all I could do was to keep her as content as
possible under the circumstances, and maybe someday she might be willing to
settle for less. Mousse, on the other hand, never ceased in his pursuit of
Shampoo-san. And all he would get for his troubles was either a thorough
beating, a splash of water, or sometimes both. I never understood what he
saw in that girl, how she treated him so, and how he always came back for
more. Of course, my opinions may have been colored from living with
Ukyou-sama

At any rate, Mousse and I began to get together and commiserate now and
again, whenever the two restaurants were closed. Sometimes we'd work out
together. He'd train me at some of the more basic hidden weapons techniques,
and I would show him how to accomplish some of the elementary ninja
arts.

But much of the time, we simply bemoaned the fact that we went unnoticed
by the girls of our heart.

Our midnight sparring sessions, especially when we faced each other with
the other's techniques, regularly left us both exhausted. And rather
impressed at the other's skill. Well, I was impressed by Mousse's,
anyway.

"I don't understand it, Mousse-san." Bob, weave. "With all
this hardware, you should be able to beat anyone who can't dodge fast
enough. How come you've never managed to take Shampoo out? She's no great
shakes at defense or anything "

All of a sudden, there was nothing to dodge. All that weaponry fell to
the ground with a massive crash. I was so startled at his reaction I dropped
to the ground without even looking, and narrowly missed landing on the
pointed end of a grappling hook.

He just stood there, staring at his feet. Well, staring at where they
would be, if you could see through that pile of metal that climbed nearly to
his knees.

I approached him, "Mousse-san?"

He looked up at me. There was a tear track on his right cheek. "I
can't do it, Konatsu."

"What? Sure you can. With these attacks, I can't see her avoiding
all of it. Taking her down ought to be a piece of cake."

"No, you don't understand. I can't hurt her." He explained how
he could not bear to see Shampoo hurt, in any way, which explained his
continued animosity toward Ranma-san. "And I will not hurt her
with my own hand."

I shrugged. "So, how about with these?" I picked up a chain,
and let it drop with a clank. "They're not your hands. Knock her out
with a clear conscience."

"They're still a part of me. It's the same thing."

"But you can't have her if you won't defeat her."

He took a deep breath and stared off into space. "I know that. At
least I can protect her, even if she doesn't know. Or care."

I shook my head in dismay. He could do so much better. If only he
would

One night, after a particularly rough evening at the Nekohanten, he
called off our sparring session, telling me he was going to just go to bed.
I decided not to let him off that easily.

I hated to do it, but I figured it was for his own good. Besides, just
because he was tired was no reason for me to slack off on
my training. A few hours after the restaurant was shut down, and
all the lights were out, I slipped in as quietly as possible, and stole one
of his robes, along with whatever hardware he'd left concealed in it.

Once back at the Ucchan, I stood in front of a mirror and tried the robe
on. Mousse and I are pretty much the same size, tall and thin, so it fit
quite well. There was even a pair of glasses hidden along with the usual
weaponry, and I slipped them on. Loosening my ponytail, I let my hair
cascade down my back. Hmm yes, I just might be able to pass for him.
Of course, maybe that was from looking through his glasses. I popped the
cracked lenses out of the frames—evidently this pair had suffered in
some skirmish with Shampoo-san—and placed them back on.

No, I really did look like him. Good. On to the next phase of my
plan

The next morning, I stationed myself in the branches of a tree nearby the
Nekohanten and waited. Sure enough, there he went, off on some fool's errand
for Shampoo-san. Or maybe he was being chased out: I could hear Shampoo
hollering at him, at least until he closed the Nekohanten door. Honestly, I
don't understand what he saw in her. Ukyou-sama never loses her
temper at me well, not unless I deserve it.

He stormed off for some twenty paces, and then suddenly stopped. I
watched as he slowly turned around, and stared at the Nekohanten for a long
moment. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, and
cautiously took a step back in the direction of the restaurant. Then
something washed over his face, as if he were coming out of a trance, and he
turned again and ran off.

As he disappeared into the distance, I wondered how many times he'd
enacted that little ritual. Did he always consider the idea of facing
Shampoo-san down every time he stepped out of her orbit? Or was this a
recent phenomenon, brought on by my prodding? Or was it just a one-time
situation, brought on by the heat of this particular moment?

I leaped down from my leafy perch where I had concealed myself from his
view. It really didn't matter how often or long he'd been considering a
confrontation. It was time he decided to do it.

Even if I had to do it for him.

As soon as I walked into the Nekohanten, dressed as I was, I was greeted
with a bucket of cold water (which I dodged) and a bonbori (which I caught
and promptly dropped—those things are heavy!) Shampoo started
gibbering something at me that I couldn't make out—maybe it was
Mandarin, maybe it was some Niuchezu dialect—but I was pretty sure it
started off with the phrase "Stupid Mousse "

To admit I didn't understand would have been to give myself away. I was
going to have to get aggressive. I grabbed her wrist, and dragged her,
protesting, outside. Then I turned to her with what I hoped would be an
indignant look.

"Now for the benefit of all these nice people," and I
gestured at the various pedestrians passing by, "would you be so kind
as to repeat what you just said?"

She looked startled for a moment, quickly regained her composure.
Controlling her anger with difficulty, she growled "Shampoo want know
why stupid Mousse no go on errand, but come back empty-handed right
away."

I took a deep breath. Giving speeches before a fight was not something I
normally did. I never understood why guys like Ryoga or Mousse felt the need
to talk before attacking; after all, it gives your opponent time to prepare,
time you shouldn't give them.

But it was what Mousse would have done. Besides, this was a proposal,
after all. I just hoped my voice wouldn't give me away. Better make this
quick.

"Errand? Shampoo, you do know why I came here all
the way from China, don't you? It's because of you. You
are my errand. Anything else I have to do here is unimportant.

"And now," I got into a fighting stance, my right hand fumbling
around in 'my' robe for a suitable weapon, "I'd appreciate it if you'd
let me complete my errand. Fight me, Shampoo. For real."

Dark as it already was, Shampoo's face grew even more so as I spoke. "Why,
you " Then, with a loud kiai, she came storming at me like
a raging tornado.

My hand found a mace, and I flung it at her as she charged

I had always been under the impression that the great and terrible Amazon
Shampoo was a force to be reckoned with. After all, she was supposed to be
the finest warrior of her tribe, at least in her generation. Certainly, she
had given Ranma-san considerable trouble when she was pursuing him, and that
took some doing. And, of course, there were the daily thrashings she would
mete out to Mousse, a formidable if flawed fighter in his own right.

But it turned out that Mousse had always, fatally, held back when he
fought her. And I was not going to. She was up against a new Mousse, and she
didn't know it.

So when I let that first mace fly out from beneath my robes, she
completely ignored it. Until it hit her square in the face, knocking her
out.

I was stunned. I thought it was possible to defeat her, but as I stared
down at her comatose form, I wondered if it hadn't been too easy.
No matter. Time to disappear into the shadows, and hope that she wouldn't
come to until the real Mousse got back.

And just as I turned to leap back into the tree, I ran smack into the
Nekohanten's garden gnome. Cologne-obaasan herself, with her usual
unreadable look.

"And just where do you think you're going
Mousse?"

The way she pronounced the name paralyzed me. I couldn't tell if she was
on to me or not, but she clearly was not about to let me get away, unless I
moved really fast.

I didn't. And my world went black.

I was awakened in the grand tradition of fairy-tale princesses
everywhere—with a kiss. Shampoo-san's sad smile looked down on me.
"Airen "

I clambered to my feet groggily. The floor seemed to be rolling around
under me. "Son-in-law ? Me?"

Shampoo-san nodded. "Ninja-girl-boy defeat Shampoo. Is Shampoo's
husband, now. Take back to Niuchezu."

"Which we should have done as soon as we could have grabbed Ranma.
Oh, well "

I was at a loss. "B-b-but what about Mousse?"

Obaasan squinted at me. "What about him? He wasn't worthy; all this
time we have tried to show him that, but he refused to listen. An oaf like
that deserves to be left behind."

"Let him take up with stupid spatula girl if he want. Shampoo no
care."

"What? Well, I do!" And I ran, still wobbly, to the
door

and found myself on a ship at sea. There was nowhere to go. Except
the Amazon village.

I'd like to think they could hear my wail of anguish back in Nerima

Author's notes: Phew that was a tough one to put together. Like I said
before, this wasn't meant to be a series and Konatsu's not generally one
to take initiative, especially with something like this. If asked, he'd do it,
but

I dunno. It was a good concept, but the execution is lacking something.
Part of it probably has to do with eight months of patchwork writing;
whenever I got back to it, I was in a different frame of mind than when I
started. I might do well to put a coda on this one, where Mousse tracks
'Natsu-chan down and beats the tar outta him (and Konatsu takes it lying
down, as he figures he has it coming for [inadvertently] stealing his
friend's girl), and where Shampoo shows a semi-masochistic streak (not only
does a guy gotta beat her in order to win her the first time, he's gotta do
it any/every time he wants to uh, consummate the relationship. Just to prove
that he's still sufficiently strong breeding stock)